


A Lady’s Prerogative

by flashofthefuse, PhryneFicathon



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-23 14:12:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13191753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashofthefuse/pseuds/flashofthefuse, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhryneFicathon/pseuds/PhryneFicathon
Summary: A dangerous standoff forces a choice for Phryne





	A Lady’s Prerogative

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



“Don’t shoot!” Phryne threw herself between Constable Hugh Collins and Group Captain Lyle Compton’s airmen. Time slowed to a crawl. Her eyes swept from the guns trained on Hugh to where Jack stood. His own gun was drawn and aimed back at the men threatening his constable, provoking a dangerous showdown. 

“Hold your positions, men!” Compton ordered. “Inspector Robinson, this is trespass!” he roared.

“We were just leaving,” Jack replied calmly. The gun in his hand held firm. 

The airmen kept their own weapons aimed at Hugh awaiting Compton's next command.

All it would take was one nervous soldier with an itchy trigger finger for this night to end in unspeakable tragedy. Phryne reached back and rested her hand on Hugh’s arm hoping to warn him against any sudden movement.

Phryne knew Jack wasn’t going to back down. His voice was calm despite Compton’s bellowing. Lyle wasn’t likely to give way either. To do so would risk losing face with his men. 

She was caught between two men of considerable power but very different ways of wielding it. Jack’s quiet authority versus Compton’s machismo. Honestly, both were appealing in their own way, which she recognized as an odd thing to be considering in the moment. 

Jack caught her eye briefly and she hoped he knew, despite some evidence to the contrary, where her loyalties lay. 

A moment later, she breathed a sigh of relief when Compton backed down and called off his men. Phryne tapped Hugh’s arm, signaling him to go, and felt him slip through the hole in the fence behind her. As Jack approached to follow she was suddenly aware of her somewhat compromised position. She pulled Compton’s heavy, leather coat tight to her body, shuffling her bare feet in the dirt. Jack’s eyes dropped to her naked legs and swept down to her red painted toes. 

His lips pressed together tightly and a look of resignation crossed his face. He met her eye again and made a small tilt of his head that told her he was not surprised and utterly unimpressed.

Had he simply been angry, or even disappointed, she’d have been able to dismiss it as petty jealousy. But this stung. Even rage would have been better than this tacit acceptance. It was as though he knew this moment was inevitable.

She thought to grab hold of him, so that she could explain, but hesitated wondering why she should be apologizing and what Lyle would make of it if she did. Before she could speak Jack was gone. 

Words he’d said earlier echoed in her head, ‘ _I don't understand why you have to dance to his tune_.’ 

She watched him go through the links of the fence. She felt suddenly manipulated, though by whom she couldn’t say. She was unable to move, momentarily trapped in a paralyzing maelstrom of two men and her own pride.

Her heart, already pounding, nearly leapt from her chest.

“Jack! Wait!” she cried.

With a last brief glance behind her, she ducked through the fence and ran.


End file.
